


Gatekeeper

by shayera



Category: One Piece
Genre: 1000-3000 words, Gen, Missing Scene, POV Minor Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-25
Updated: 2009-02-25
Packaged: 2017-10-03 16:01:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shayera/pseuds/shayera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some time after his meeting with Luffy, Crocus gets another visitor from East Blue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gatekeeper

The silence on Twin Capes after Laboon had stopped crying was almost deafening, even weeks after the fact. The roar of the Reverse Mountain waterfall was nothing but music to the lighthouse keeper’s ears compared to the pitiful cries of the island whale. The Straw Hat kid had done a good deed, no question about it. Crocus nodded wisely to himself and flipped the page of yesterday’s newspaper, eyeing through the articles for something he hadn’t already read.

In the relative silence, he could hear the voices of an approaching ship from far away. Yelling. There was always someone yelling on a ship passing over Reverse Mountain. Understandable, since most people never passed the mountain often enough to get used to the experience. Pirates and adventurers were an overly excited lot in any case, and the more serious kinds of people had other ways of passing into the Grand Line. That was the way the world worked. Crocus flipped another page and listened to the yelling voices getting closer.

A medium sized pirate crew, most likely. Certainly more sizable than the handful of kids under the Straw Hat banner, but nowhere near the crowds the East Blue “Don” had brought with him a couple of months earlier. Crocus saw the new ship shoot down the mountain and out onto the open sea in the corner of his eye, but he didn’t bother to look up. If they wanted to contact him, they would; if not, they’d leave him in peace.

As it happened, the newcomers did not seem intent on leaving immediately. Eyeing through an article on the recent developments in Alabasta, Crocus noticed that the pirates were anchoring their ship by the cliffside. Very well, then. He still didn’t bother to look up from the paper.

“Flashy old man!” yelled an unexpectedly familiar voice. “Long time no see!”

Crocus raised his head slowly, and then raised an eyebrow. “Buggy.”

“Damn right it’s me!” Buggy replied, emerging from the stepladder that led up from the simple kay. He still had a big red nose, long blue hair and an exaggerated smile, but now he also sported a crossbone tattoo on his forehead, and a huge captain’s hat of the traditional type. Crocus hadn’t seen him since Roger’s crew dissolved, but he seemed to be doing reasonably well for himself. “A flashy good day to you!” A disembodied hand flew up to Crocus as a greeting, and the lighthouse keeper shook it, unperturbed, after which it flew back and reconnected with Buggy’s arm.

Apparently satisfied, Buggy turned back towards his crew who were starting to emerge over the edge of the cliff. “Men!” he yelled. “We’re on the Grand Line! Let’s have a flashy celebration!!” A chorus of agreement followed, and Crocus sighed inwardly. A lot of pirates felt the need to celebrate here, after passing Reverse Mountain. In the best-case scenario, they’d just be rowdy and loud, but in some cases they could be annoying enough that he’d take his refuge inside Laboon. He was not as young as he used to be, after all.

Nevertheless, he remained seated where he was, outside the northern lighthouse, while the pirates hoisted up barrels of rum and various food items. Although Buggy had always been a clown, Crocus noted absent-mindedly that his crew was more or less the entire circus – animals and all – even though they were far from the oddest crew he had seen passing through here.

While most of the crew worked, Buggy got himself seated on one of the guest stools near Crocus’ chair. “Ah, it’s good to be back,” he said. “Good memories, good memories! And bad ones as well! Anything change on the Grand Line since I saw it last?”

“Buggy,” Crocus said solemnly. “It’s impolite to ask about news before first revealing if you have any of your own.”

“Really?” Buggy asked. “Well, I’ve been...”

Crocus ignored him. “Some changes,” he replied to the original question. “More pirates, for one thing. Someone new drops by here almost every other week.”

“You’re still a shit-flashy old guy!” Buggy growled, literally going to pieces before pulling himself together again. Crocus watched him dispassionately, but he admitted to himself that he was somewhat amused.

“In any case, most of them don’t make it very far,” he continued. “The Marine forces are a lot stronger than before along some of the routes. And many of the pirates have no idea what they’re getting themselves into here. You do have your log pose, I suppose?”

“Of course I do, what do you take me for!?” Buggy produced a battered little log pose with a torn wristband from a coat pocket.

“Very well.”

“I had a map, too, and I could have been here a lot earlier if that thief woman hadn’t gone and stolen it!” Buggy grumbled. “And then her captain humiliated me! _Twice_! But I’ll have my flashy revenge...”

“So you’re here for vengeance, then? Not for treasure hunting?”

“That too! Treasure is the one true meaning of piracy!”

“I seem to remember you saying that, yes.”

Barrels of rum had already been opened around them, and a group of crewmembers some distance away had broken into some silly song. Buggy sent his hands away to collect a cup of the stuff for himself, then downed it in one swag. “Aahh!” he said. “Much better! But you’re right, I’m here for vengeance! Flashy vengeance! That one pirate kid is going to pay for what he did, oh yeah!”

A pretty woman standing nearby swooped in and gave Buggy a wry look. “That is, if you _can_ kill him,” she said. “He’s the strongest and the luckiest man in East Blue. A real catch for the most beautiful woman in the world!” She grinned.

“If you say so,” Buggy shrugged. “I’m still going to kill him!” He fired a fist into the air as emphasis, then let the hand drift off to get another mug of rum. “By the way, old guy, where’s your flashy whale?”

“Laboon is over there,” Crocus replied, indicating with an elbow what more or less looked like a small island some distance off the shore. In fact, he was moving closer at this very moment, perhaps curious to have a look at the newcomers. Crocus actually cracked a smile at that. Laboon hadn’t been that friendly in years.

Buggy, however, just stared at the whale. “He’s got something painted on his forehead,” he noted. “But that’s not... It couldn’t be...” As Laboon came even closer, Buggy’s jaw dropped. “It’s a damned Jolly Roger with a straw hat! What’s your game, old guy? Since when are you and your whale partners with _him_!?”

“The Straw Hat boy?” That was unexpected. “Is that the pirate who you want vengeance on?”

“It certainly is! Luffy or whatever! Carries around Shanks’ old hat as if it was a treasure! And you admit you know him!”

That was Shanks’ old straw hat? It had indeed looked familiar. Interesting – Roger would have approved. “He passed through here a few weeks ago,” he said. “He’s a good kid. Even managed to cheer Laboon up. But if you’ve got a grudge against him, that’s between the two of you, and I’m not about to interfere.”

Buggy jumped up and grabbed Crocus by the shoulders. “Which way did he go? Where is he now? Tell me so I can follow!”

The lighthouse keeper sighed and pushed Buggy’s hands away with the authority that came with seniority, both of age and of rank as previous crewmates. “I don’t know where he is now, but I could tell you which way he went. In exchange, since I’m rather interested in the kid, don’t you think it’d be fair if you first told me about your meeting, and what you know of him?”

Buggy considered this for about half a moment. “It’s a deal!” he concluded. “And it’s a flashy story! Me and my men were camping in this town called...”


End file.
